Strong
by GigiPuff
Summary: "Please be strong Ralph" Ralph thinks over his last moments with his first love RalphxSimon implied.


It had been a year and six months since that night. Ralph never recalled holding a memory so vividly in his mind. He knew the night would haunt him until death. The memory came to him mostly when he was alone like this; the night would play like a film in his mind until he felt sick and empty. A mixture of guilt and shame would reduce him to tears; he felt so lonely and empty sitting there alone. The regrets tolled in his mind all the time. He should have done something. He should have come to his senses and saved him…he didn't. He could've dragged him out from there; he could've run away with him; they could've hid away from the others until day break. No…he hadn't done any of those things. Now, he sat by himself, wishing things had gone differently.

The days following the night, Ralph cried. He cried silently to himself as he lied down in the sand. Piggy occasionally would turn over to ask if he was alright, but Ralph only muttered his answer: "I'm fine." He didn't want Piggy pestering him about how the night had "been an accident" and that Simon had "no business comin' out of there like that". Piggy didn't understand. The bespectacled boy never understood how Ralph really felt. He was too analytical for it; too close-minded. All he talked about was formulas, rules, order, and things Ralph did not wish to hear. He wanted to be alone.

And when he got his wish, he instantly regretted it.

He knew crying wouldn't bring Simon back…You can't bring back the dead. Yet, Ralph wished for him regardless. Simon had been his rock; the thing that kept him going when he felt hopelessness. He always gave some wise, comforting words while stroking his hair and holding him as he cried. Simon never ridiculed him for crying…the others did…but not Simon. Ralph then instantly recalled the last moment he spent with Simon before the night.

'_What happened to us Simon? We all used to be so happy before this happened…Every thing was wonderful and happy…things were in order…I was chief and people listened to me…Now, everything is wrong…We're gonna be here 'till we die, just like Piggy said.'_

'_Don't talk like that, Ralph. Things are wrong now; there is no way we could change that for the better. But, you need to be strong right now. You can't let Jack see you like this. You can't let him see that you've given up and let him win. That's what he wants. We will get rescued soon, and we'll all go home. We'll finally put this island behind us…You'll see.'_

'_But Simon…Jack is-'_

'_Let's not worry about Jack tonight…Sleep, you look tired. Come on.'_

They had slept in the sand that night, in the same shelter as Piggy. He always slept beside Simon because the boy just seemed to have this goodness; this warmth that eased his worries for those few moments before sleep …Despite being only a few inches apart. A tear ran down Ralph's cheek, which he wiped away with the back of his hand. A few nights later Simon was killed. Ralph remembered it all so clearly, as if he was back there still. Bright white flashes over a dark sky with a low rumbling thunder following; small rain drops falling onto his warm skin as it began to rain; the boys dancing around a blazing fire singing their chant; they even played their game with someone – he thought it might be Roger- as the pig. Ralph had lost himself in the moment, forgetting who he was and why he was there. He chanted along with them, danced along with them, turned and saw the dark figure crawling out of the jungle. He remembered the sand on his feet as he ran; his hands balled into fists ready to hit and tear on flesh of The Beast.

'_Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!-'_

'_-There's a dead man on the hill! Ralph, I found a dead-'_

'_-Do him in! Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill-'_

'_-No! Stop! Listen to me! There's a..Ow! Ahhhh!'_

_-Kill the beast! Kill the beast-'_

"_-Ralph!-"_

Hands clasped over ears as Ralph drew his knees to his chest. He felt so ashamed of himself. Simon had called for him; he pleaded for them to stop…He pleaded for Ralph to stop. In the mist of that terrible, bloody blur he remembered his knuckles beating down on flesh, his throat growing hoarse from chanting and screaming. He sobbed as his body shook. The memory continued in his mind. The way Simon screamed as spears tore into his small body; how fists and feet bruised his once perfect skin. Above all, he remembered this one moment: The moment where Simon and he locked eyes as he lay there dying. Eyes that had once been filled with love and joy held a lifelessness Ralph had never seen.

"Simon…Simon, I'm so sorry…I didn't mean for it to happen…I should've saved you. I should've stopped them from hurting you…I'm sorry…" He said it as if the boy were right next to him.

By the time he realized he had just murdered his first love, Ralph had been too late. The holes, rips and tears already punctured the soft skin; blood already stained the beige sand as water began to wash his body out to sea. Ralph wanted to believe it hadn't been Simon. He woke up the next morning to an empty space in front of him. He called out for Simon on the beach, knowing the spots the boy normally traveled. He called, and called, and called. Piggy had been the one to stop him; Samneric walked him back to their own camp. Ralph could not and would not believe it.

'_He's dead…Simon…Piggy that was Simon'_

He swept a hand through his bleached hair, tear tracks on his cheeks. He was alone now. A year and six months later Ralph found himself completely alone with Jack's tribe. Sometimes he wished they would kill him. Then, perhaps he would be with Simon; maybe his hollowness would be whole again. He could not take this loneliness any longer. He wanted to be with Simon; to feel those warm arms comfort him. He needed the boy more than ever, and he was gone.

The sound of footsteps caught his attention from the side: Through the crisscross bars that made up his case he could see two boys: Both identical down to the last freckle, walking in unison with faces painted with similar patterns and colors, Samneric approached him. They both stared down at him with saddened expressions. The friendship between the three boys remained strong throughout the year. The twins looked as though they wanted to hug him; tell him they missed him. Yet, no words were exchanged other than:

"It's time."

_Time._ Time for him to finally meet his fate. Jack's wrath fueled the machine of bloodlust and hate the boy felt towards him. He had the tribe search the jungle grounds for Ralph every so often, despite that fact he no longer posed any threat. Simon would have told him Jack felt his power was incomplete because Ralph still stood as some kind of equal authority; that what Ralph had done made him angry. He always said Ralph was the only one to stand up to Jack: He scolded Jack when he let the signal fire go out; he fought him not once but twice; he demanded Piggy's glasses back. Jack hated him.

The small cage door opened, and Ralph crawled out. Against their wishes, none of the boys embraced one another. Instead, Samneric walked on either side of Ralph as they guided him down a torch-lit path to the camp nearby. A death march. That was what this was. The thirteen-year-old knew what stood at the end of this path: Jack and his smug sneer; Roger and his spear sharpened at both ends, and all the bigunns and littuns around them. He was going to die on this island.

'_Don't worry, Ralph,'_ a voice said in his mind.

He looked around for a sign of the caller. Finally settling his eyes on the shadows beyond the torches, he saw him. Walking beside the trio in the darkness was a scrawny boy with black hair hanging in front of dark amber eyes. He wore nothing but a pair of torn-up shorts. Even in this moment of melancholy, Simon managed to radiate the goodness Ralph felt when they slept beside each other. No smile curved, but they two merely watched each other. Ralph wanted to touch him; to hug him close and tell him he missed him. He wanted Simon to know how sorry he was; he wanted to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness.

'_I forgive you,' _Simon's voice said. _'I forgave you a long time ago.'_

"I'm scared," Ralph whispered.

'_You need to be strong, Ralph. I won't tell you it won't be painless; Jack wants you too bad to just kill you. You hurt him too deeply.'' _

A sob escaped Ralph again. Samneric must have said some words of comfort to him for he felt two hands pat both his shoulders. Before he could respond, the twins stopped abruptly. He forced himself to turn from Simon to the figure sitting before him

On his throne, the malicious sneer of triumph on his face, Jack met with Ralph's eyes. The two boys had not seen each other for months, and Jack had changed greatly: A little more muscle built upon his tall body, dark paint masking the freckled face he had met ages ago, and bleached hair which had once been a dark red. Ralph barely recognized him, yet when he spoke, he knew it was Jack.

"So," Jack's voice broke the dead silence, "Look what we found here: Ralphie the Fag." The name sounded like a knife to Ralph's ears. "All alone with no Simon to protect him; all alone with no fat pig whining and moaning…You scared Ralph? Scared of me? Scared of my tribe? Is that why you wandered into my side of the island? Tired of running from what you can't escape?"

At the center of the camp was a hard rock spread out like some kind of table…his death bed. The boys he once knew stood all around with spears, watching him through filthy faces. He felt like he was in a demonstration, and the boys were there to observe. The questions taunted him. Jack liked humiliating him, so he felt how Jack felt the last time they saw each other. He wanted Ralph to feel so ashamed of his choice. The fair haired boy stood there, in his silence.

'_Be strong,' _Simon repeated. _'He wants to break you. Don't let him.'_

"You've always been so weak, Ralph. All your rules and talk of order…trying to be the leader you know you aren't…I'm the leader now. Me. Chief. Not you."

A fist collided with Ralph's cheekbone, leaving a dull pain. Ralph said nothing; he barely moved. This displeased Jack.

"Put him on the rock," Jack pointed.

Samneric, along with two others, grabbed Ralph. His stomach churned now; his eyes wandered around frantically for a sign of Simon. He struggled against his captors, but to no avail. Fear began to settle into his stomach. Was this what it felt like knowing you were about to die? Ralph was placed on the rock face-down, with the boys still holding onto him. He squirmed there; not caring that the rough surface scraped his chest. Tears fell down from his eye to his temple; he sobbed.

"Aw what's wrong?" Jack mocked. "The little fag scared of big ol' Jack? Well, you should be!" He spat down at Ralph before standing upright again.

Soon, he heard that too-familiar chant: _"Kill the Fag…Cut his throat…Spill his blood…Do him in…'_ The chorus- started by Jack- began slowly as a wave of words flowed over the rest of the boys. Soon, all of them were screaming it fiercely, their voices echoing all over the area. Ralph's eyes searched for Simon. He wanted Simon.

'_I'm right here,'_ He heard him, but couldn't see him. _'Don't be scared. Be strong. Please be strong, Ralph. I'm here with you. We can be strong together.'_

"No Roger!" Jack called out. "Gimme the whip…I want to do this one personally…"

He squeezed his eyes tight. Ralph tried to muster up as much courage as he could. He wanted to anticipate the pain; practically feel it before it struck down. With a loud crack, a burning lash came down on his skin. His wince of pain showed, but no cry. The song became background noise as Ralph's torture continued on. The hands of the boys gripped him tightly as he fought against them, but the pain only went forward.

After what felt like hours, Jack stopped. Ralph happened to look in a corner of the camp, and between the boys he saw Simon's face. Watery eyes stared back at Ralph, the voice sounding cracked and on the verge of crying. He cried along with him. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Jack shift to his side. A rough hand grabbed a tuff of his hair and pulled it as back as possible, until his lips were at Ralph's ear.

"I loved you…and you chose him," Jack growled in his whisper. "We could've been _so_ happy…Now…You die."

He felt a cold blade touch the middle of his skin. Ralph met with Simon's eyes again, ignoring the words of his admirer. The boys cried together right at that moment.

"I love you, Simon."

And those were the last words Ralph would ever utter.


End file.
